


Strays

by hiddencait



Series: Assorted Jeremy Renner Centric Kink Bingo Fills [1]
Category: 28 Weeks Later (2007)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Domestic, F/M, Gen, Pre-ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/pseuds/hiddencait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To think he’d once called her a mere puppy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strays

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fill for Kink Bingo but sadly is rather light on the kink itself. 
> 
> My prompt was "animal play," and the first think that came to mind was when Doyle referred to Tammy and Andy as puppies. 
> 
> What can I say - the term "animal play" could only be considered here EXTREMELY loosely. Hopefully the fic still works as a whole though!

The slight sound of someone scratching at the door drew Doyle from the doze he’d allowed himself. Even knowing who stood on the other side, he reached for his pistol instinctively, only lowering his hand when the door swung softly open and Tammy slipped inside.

She smiled at him, the curve of her lips lighting up her face despite the dark circles under her eyes. She closed the door behind her, locking the deadbolt, and finally moving the dresser in front of the door as quietly as she could. Then, as always, her eyes shifted to the cot in the corner and then back to Doyle. 

“How is he?” she mouthed silently, clearly hoping not to wake her brother. Doyle sighed and just shrugged. 

Andy was about the same as he’d been for the last few hours, sleeping like the dead and hopefully healing. Doyle glanced over at the kid and frowned at the thought. Things were different now; shit, everything was different now that the virus had crossed to the continent. Ironically, though, the worst change in the past year for the three of them had been the existence of people like Andy becoming public knowledge. And it was people, now; at least 1 in every 100 people or so seemed to be immune. Or a carrier – it all depended on perspective. The last compound they’d tried to approach had definitely had the latter perspective. And fuck if they hadn’t been attempting to beat Tammy’s little brother to death before Doyle had been able to get the three of them away again.

At least they’d gotten away this time. And Andy would heal. Probably quicker than Doyle himself would, Doyle guessed as he shifted up to lean against the headboard, his battered ribs protesting the move. Tammy slipped into the bed and curled up into a ball at the opposite end, her head pillowed on Doyle’s feet.

“Ready to crash out?” he whispered, and she nodded against his ankle, her eyes already half closed. 

He tossed one of the ragged blankets down to her end of the bed, careful to cover only her torso as she made a habit of kicking it off otherwise. Those long legs of hers curled around until she was pressed against him, her toes tucked underneath his hip. She gave him one last sleepy smile that had his heart swelling in his chest, and then she dropped off to sleep all at once like always. 

Doyle envied her that gift of sleeping any time and any where. It was one he should have picked up in the military, but it never seemed to happen. And now, now with the infected and hostile survivors and various foreign military powers all standing against them, he found it even harder to sleep. It was so much harder to allow himself to be that defenseless, especially when he had the kid to look out for, and Tammy to keep safe.

Not that she needed anyone to keep her safe, or so she had often snapped. She’d keep him safe, she said, and he had to admit she’d proven it more than once. His Tammy was tough; hell, she was an outright bitch if she thought her family was threatened. The bastards who’d gone after Andy had found that out the hard way – she’d torn into the worst offenders with fists and nails and teeth. If Doyle hadn’t known better, he might have thought her one of the infected with that much rage spilling out of her. 

But she wasn’t; of course, she wasn’t. Doyle knew like no one else that Tammy was simply fierce and utterly protective of her family. Like a wolf with her pack, he’d often thought. He smiled wryly at the thought now. To think he’d once called her a mere puppy.

She’d grown up now, he mused, a hand slipping down to stroke her calf and hopefully soothe the nightmares that already had her whimpering softly. 

Grown up strong and bright and courageous and so very lovely. She nuzzled his ankle again, her own hand snaking around to clutch his leg to her chest. So painfully lovely, Doyle thought with a heavy sigh. Damned if she wouldn’t turn out to be the death of him.


End file.
